


Faint Passing of the Earth

by Aziord



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, itama lives au, there was more violence in this than I originally wanted there to be, tobirama tries to be a good older brother
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 20:12:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13395381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aziord/pseuds/Aziord
Summary: In which Itama is dead, and then he isn't.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> i thought i might as well post my prologue since its been sitting finished for a while now. i wont start updating this regularly until the actual chapter 1 though.
> 
> only this chapter is in hashirama's perspective - everything after will be from itama's. 
> 
> also this chapter is kind of angtsy. oops.

“Brother, where is Kawarama now?”

Hashirama glanced down to meet Itama’s bright, curious gaze. The younger boy must have registered Kawarama’s death, after all it had been a few years since the funeral, but such a question must have been aimed toward a spiritual approach. Is Kawarama surely gone from existence? Was there an afterlife in which he would be safe? These questions were troubling to Hashirama  — his little brother should not have to ponder such weighted thoughts.

Tying his Senju headband tighter, Hashirama sighed. “He’s with mother now. I don’t know exactly where he is, but I’m sure he’s happy.  Especially if he is with her.” Hashirama dropped his hands and blinked away the flashes of white hair that symbolized his later mother. He held too little memories of her, the cause of her death sudden, soon after Itama’s birth.

Itama was silent after that, armor hanging loosely over his small, preteen frame.

Hashirama pretended not to notice his brother’s shaking shoulders. If Butsuma took notice of anything out of place, such as Hashirama’s attempt at comfort, they be forced to the frontline of battle as punishment. Hashirama knew he could handle it, after all, his clansmen whispered of his kekkai genkai’s power, but surely Itama would not escape so easily. He was only eleven, and hardly knew anything more than earth release and medical ninjutsu. It was a surprise that their father was still enforcing that medical shinobi must also participate on the battlefield. “Experience,” was not an excuse Hashirama would have stood to hear, but he’d learned through harsh punishment that backtalk was not tolerated by Butsuma.

Glancing down in search of his sword, Hashirama resigned himself. He would gain peace for his clan, if not for the safety his brothers, but for any and all children that would be slaughtered in future wars if fighting was to continue. His kekkai genkai was growth, it was life, and he would maintain what was giving to him as a birthright.

Flicking his gaze over to Tobirama, Hashirama could only turn his thoughts to his level-headed younger brother. Tobirama was wiser than Hashirama was, even for a younger age, and yet, Hashirama could only see death that clouded his sibling. Tobirama aimed for demise of his opponents, even if he wished for the wars to end. Execution was his specialty, and Hashirama couldn’t help but watch helplessly as his brother developed new jutsu, goal only towards survival in combat, and death on the other side.

It was odd, how Tobirama and him mirrored death and life in Hashirama’s mind, but it left room for a single question. What was Itama?

Hashirama was inclined to believe that his youngest brother was like he —life in itself, and  it did seem in a such a way due to Itama’s skills in medical ninjutsu. However, Hashirama knew that Itama had not yet developed in a way Tobirama had, leaving his question open-ended. Only time would tell exactly where Itama would be placed. Time that Hashirama was unsure that would come to pass.

Would Itama survive this battle? What of Tobirama? Fear clenched in his chest as a constant wound. They had lost Kawarama, and the looming threat of the other two being lost remained as well. Every battle was a risk, one Hashirama wished wouldn’t be taken, but their father was stubborn and devoted to old tactics.

Hashirama would change these ideals once he became head of the clan.

“Senju, we’re heading out. Orders are that the Uchiha had already moved into our lands.”

Hashirama snatched a nearby sword before glancing at Itama. Only time would tell.

* * *

 

Branches scratching against his sweat-soaked face felt the same as the wind whipping through his hair as Hashirama leapt from tree to tree, eyes frantically snapping around in search for a white tuff of hair. He would find Itama completely fine, only lost and—

“Itama!”

Fallen leaves cracked under Hashirama’s feet as he unceremoniously fell to the forest floor, breath leaving his lungs as the impact dropped him close a boulder.

A boulder that held an unmoving Itama, crimson blood splattered across the gray backdrop.

The air that left Hashirama’s lungs this time wasn’t from the fall, but from agony that ripped through his chest.

_ He had lost another brother. _


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so uh i still have no logical explanation to how itama is alive. roll with it.

Itama sucked in a harsh breath, coughing as the air was damp and full of must. Where was he?

Confusion flickered in his mind as he attempted to glance around, but only found darkness as an answer. Better yet, he was lying perfectly on his back —something that never happened, seeing as Itama prefered to sleep on his side.

Trepidation slowly mounted in in the young boy’s chest. If he was home, he would be able to see through the moonlight in his window if it was night. However, Itama couldn’t remember ever returning home. His last recollection was of preparing to face an Uchiha force,  _ not _ returning back to the Senju compound.

Removing a hand from his torso, Itama was startled as his limb hit wood above him, the dull thunk muted.

Alarm flooded Itama’s body as he frantically began to search with his hands, dread hitting him as his skin scraped against solid wood all around. The clink of his armor as he shifted also stirred anxiety in Itama even further. Why was he wearing his armor if he really had returned home?

Was he in a box of some sort?

Itama shoved at the wood around him, hoping one side would lift to be a lid, but to no avail did any budge. The muffled sounds of his hands bewildered Itama, as for if he was in a box, the outside would be hollow and the noise would travel.

The young Senju paused. He didn’t have his brother’s mokuton to reshape the wooden box, but maybe he could move nearby earth help his escape.

Placing a hand against the wood to his side again to determine if there even was soil nearby, Itama blinked in surprise as he discover that it was dirt that completely surrounded him. Had he been  _ buried _ ?

Quickly forming hand seals, Itama wove his chakra into the earth above him, shifting it to the side. If he truly was underground, he may be able to escape. The cracking of moving dirt from above caused Itama’s brows to furrow. He really  _ was _ under the earth.

Did the Uchiha put him down here? They knew he had earth release—he could have broken out at any time. Even then, just how long was he in this box? He surely would have suffocated from the lack of air if he had been asleep and breathing for longer than an hour, at most.

Itama braced a foot against what he assumed was the lid and shoved with his arms. The Senju was stunned as it was lifted with the chakra-laced strength, and moonlight flooded into the box.

Grunting, the boy set the lid beside to him and pulled himself from his resting position, glancing down at where he previously laid.

All that remained was a pillow—a pillow!—in the box, as Itama scrambled out of the hole, jolting in surprise as the heavy lid slammed back down into a resting position.

His gaze shot back to the box, and the breath that left his lungs was faint as his eyes met the Senju clan symbol engraved on the top of the wood.

It was a coffin.

Itama swiftly glanced down at himself, inspecting for any wounds. None caught his immediate eye, as he was covered in traditional Senju armor. It didn’t belong to Itama himself, he noted in bafflement. His own armor was scratched heavily on the left side, and yet, this armor was pristine, seemingly new and having never seen a battle.

The dots slowly connected in Itama’s mind—he was previously buried in a Senju coffin, along with new armor.

He was supposed to be dead.

If only to confirm his theory, hoping this was but a terrible charade, Itama turned his gaze to his surroundings, unease coiling in his stomach as he was met by the sight of Senju graves. His eyes caught on the grave next to his own, and with this, Itama felt his eyes well with water. 

Kawarama Senju—the name was engraved into stone.

Itama’s hands shook as he attempted to unclapse the armor that encased him, heart pounding. The clatter of falling pieces of metal rattled his thoughts in the quiet night, breath turning uneven in pace as terror overtook him.

This had to have been a terrible genjutsu an Uchiha placed on him. There was no other explanation.

The Senju stilled his hands at this thought, and attempted to break his chakra flow as he had been taught to escape genjutsu.

Waiting a beat, Itama’s lip trembled as nothing changed—he was still in the Senju graveyard, and he wasn’t in a genjutsu.

As the last piece of his armor fell with a clunk, Itama stumbled towards Kawarama’s grave and fell to his knees. It was only life’s mocking way of enacting revenge, he had determined. He had inquired about Kawarama’s location after his death, and it was only fitting Itama later turned up at his brother’s grave.

The tears the flowed freely down his face hardly bothered Itama. His father wasn’t nearby to stop him, and the sobs that wracked from his chest weren’t something he felt he could stop anytime soon.

He was thought to be dead to his clan. They buried him, and yet here he remained, unscathed and very much alive.

“. . .Itama?”

The boy sucked in a breath as his name was whispered behind him, and he scrambled around, only to meet the eyes of one of his older brothers. Tobirama stood in daze, staring down at Itama. However, the eyes Itama met were filled with dread and trepidation, not the warm, if not often uninterested, gaze of the Senju.

Having no doubts about his actions, Itama knew that out of anyone, Tobirama would be able to tell him what had happened. His older brother was a genius, and even if Tobirama didn’t know the whole story, he would be able to figure out a cause.

Itama clambered off of his knees and threw himself at Tobirama, embracing his older brother as he continued his sobs.

“Brother— brother what happened? Why was I buried next to Kawarama?” Itama hiccuped, trying to suck in more breath to stumble through his questions. “Why was I burial armor? Last I remember was going into battle with Hashirama.”

A warm hand was gingerly set on Itama’s shoulder before it abruptly pulled back in quick succession.

“You’re alive.”

Itama pulled his face away from Tobirama’s chest, frowning uncomfortably as the fabric stuck to his damp face. He stared at his brother’s clothing in confusion at this—Tobirama was in his pajamas.

Tobirama gazed down at Itama, wonder acute in his eyes. “I sensed your chakra reappear and rushed here as son as I could. You’ve been dead for a week.”

The words reached Itama’s ears, and yet took a moment to process. He had been dead? For a week?

“Huh?” Itama said, eyes widening.

He turned his head to glance at the gaping hole in the ground his earth jutsu had caused. Tobirama’s statement certainly matched with he had only previous assumed.

Tobirama continued to stare down at Itama, expression morphing to a blank slate at the other’s action. “We need to get you somewhere safe.”

Itama clung back to Tobirama’s chest, willing to let his older brother make the decisions for him. “Let’s go to father then, he’ll —”

A stern, “No,” swiftly cut Itama off, words dying in his throat. If not to their father, then where? To one of the medics?

“Why not father?” Itama questioned, once again staring up at Tobirama in confusion.

Tobirama finally set a hand on Itama’s shoulder in full, before sighing. “If he knows you’re alive, he’s just going to put you out on the battlefield  _ again _ . You’ll possibly die  _ again _ , and who knows how many times you can come back, or if it’s just Kami giving you this one gift.”

Itama didn’t want to believe it but—his older brother was always right. He never liked taking part in battles, but he did so under their father’s orders. Hashirama always attempted to argue the way out for Itama after Kawarama’s death, but their father only seemed to stick to his regiment even further. “The best practice is experience,” he had been told more than once in their father.

He had no home. If their father couldn’t know of his current condition, being  _ alive _ and all, he couldn’t return the the Senju compound. Where would he go?

Arms quickly pulled Itama closer in an embrace, Tobirama setting his chin upon the top of Itama’s head. “You’re going to be fine. I’ll make sure of that.”


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no beta we die like men

Itama attempted to feign surprise when his brother’s chakra flared to life behind him —it might stroke Tobirama’s ego for once. Sage knows no one does it for him.

“You don’t have to act for my sake, Itama.”

A grin instantly pulled itself onto said boy—no—man’s face as he turned, preparing to fling himself into Tobirama’s embrace, only to hesitate at the view of books crowding Tobirama’s arms. Yeah, no. Flinging himself would be a terrible idea, least he sport new bruises due to the sharp corners of the books jabbing into him.

Tobirama arched an eyebrow at Itama’s faltering expression. “You’re almost as bad as Hashirama with hugs,” he said, stepping over to a nearby table to dump the books he held. “But I brought you some more things to read like you wanted. It was difficult to find any fire release texts that did more than talk about what the Uchiha use for their jutsu, so I wouldn’t recommend learning those lest you get questioned about why you know them, but—”

A quick hand snatched a book from the pile, toppling half the stack before Tobirama stopped the tumble with his body. “Be  _ careful _ ! You don’t want to ruin the pages by creasing them!”

Itama snorted, eyes already roaming the cover of the book he had seized, purposefully not looking up at Tobirama’s irritated expression. “Yeah, yeah. I got it. You have to ‘return them in pristine condition before anyone notices they’re gone’ and all that. I’ll be careful, but you really need to pull that stick out of your ass. You do this every time you bring me something.”

A twitch from Tobirama’s eyebrow told Itama he might have crossed a boundary. “You—”

“Tōka tells you the same thing, doesn’t she?” Itama questioned, cutting Tobirama off. He loved to fuck with his brother, just to see that, despite what he often hears about the ‘ice-hearted second heir Senju’, Tobirama is more than just a cold personality. Turns out he can get  _ really _ pissed off too.

“You make me wonder why I bother coming out here.”

Itama turned a page in the book he held, smile adorning his features. “Because you love your little brother who can apparently come back from the dead. And also you can teleport so the travel isn’t a hassle.”

“You—” Tobirama ground out, “It’s more than just teleporting. Space-time ninjutsu is incredibly intricate, and I have yet to test it on the battlefield but—”

The loud crack of Itama snapping his book shut quieted Tobirama long enough for Itama to jut in. “I’ve heard you lecture me about this a thousand times, Tobirama. Really, I could repeat it in my sleep.”

Tobirama huffed, eyes meeting the amused grin on Itama’s face. “Where did you learn the sass from in the past eleven years? It surely didn’t come from the trees out here.”

Itama barked a laugh, mirth alight in his eyes. “I got it from you, of course. Who else? You know I don’t do this to anyone but you.”

“I feel sorry for the poor sod you’ll be stuck getting together with. They won’t know what hit them when one day you’re a sweet, shy thing, and the next you could make a snake cry with your tongue.”

Itama counted it a success that he could hear the smile in his brother’s voice. Their banter often lit a small grin on Tobirama’s face whenever he visited.

“Anyhow,” Itama paused in his turn to set his book down as Tobirama’s voice dropped to a monotone, “I’m here to talk about how father is dead.”

Itama’s movement paused, his heart freezing in his chest. It was so like Tobirama to be blunt and straight-to-the-point, but—

“So, I can return to the Senju?” Itama quickly breathed out, whirling around to meet Tobirama with an animated grin. Eleven years — it had been eleven years since he last saw the Senju compound. The same amount of time he’d last seen his father.

Ignoring the low pain in his heart at the news of his remaining father’s death, Itama glanced hopefully at Tobirama’s expression. Butsuma had been a hard-pressed man who caused Itama’s death, and essentially drove him away from the Senju. Itama knew he should not harbor any love for his father, but the child he once was, that remembered before Kawarama’s death, the family they were, still held familial affection, no matter what.

The deepening frown upon Tobirama’s face wasn’t a good sign.

Itama’s smile instantly dropped, and he set his book down, concerning writing across his features. “Did something happen to Hashirama too? Or is the Senju compound destroyed?” Itama rushed out, settling a hand on Tobirama’s arm.

“The compound and Hashirama are fine.”

“Then what?” Itama’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Hashirama should be clan head now — he would welcome me back if he knew I was alive, right? If you’re worried that he’ll be angry with you because you never told him I was alive, I’ll say it was my idea. You don’t need to—”

“I don’t think you should come back.”

Tobirama’s cold statement cut Itama off.

A hand slipped from Tobirama’s arm and fell limply by Itama’s side as seconds ticked by. The air became thicker the longer the hushed silence accompanied the two Senju staring at each other, one’s face of indifference and the other of muted horror. The chirp of a magpie floated past Itama’s ears to partially fill the silence.

Tobirama dared to speak first.

“Although Hashirama is now clan head, you’ll still be put on the battlefield, Butsuma or not. You’re an adult now, and every able Senju is needed — not to mention your shinobi skills surpas many in our clan.” He took a breathe, eyes dashing to the side, unable to meet Itama’s any longer. “Hashirama nor I would be able to stop the elders from sending you into battle if you returned.”

“So, you want to stop me from seeing my family again because you think I can’t handle myself, despite the fact we’re almost level in  _ skill _ ?” Itama retorted, expression contorting in hurt.

“That’s not what I—”

“Yes it is!” Itama interjected, pushing away Tobirama’s hand that reached for him.

“Itama, let me finish—”

“And say what? What else could you say to possibly justify your reasoning?” Itama hissed, breathing growing erratic even at his attempts to calm himself down. He wanted to return home, see Hashirama again, it had been eleven years. And Tobirama denied him because of his fear?

“Get out,” Itama murmured as Tobirama opened his mouth to speak again.

“Itama I’m not leaving."

“Tobirama,” Itama began, rubbing the palm of his hand into his eye to alleviate the sting of tears, “I’m asking you go to nicely.”

Silence echoed across from him, but Itama could still feel Tobirama’s agitated chakra looping in front of him.

“Fine, I’ll come back when you’ve had to time to think things over and realize I’m right. Hashirama is attempting to make peace with the Uchiha — I was going to say you should come home to order and tranquility, rather than the threat of death again.”

Tobirama’s chakra surged brightly before flickering from Itama’s sensory range.

His shoulders slumped before he realized what he was doing, and he quickly squeezed his eyes shut as the pricks of forming tears threatened him. He wouldn’t cry — he hadn’t done so in years.

However, the pain of rejection from once again being barred from returning to his home stung in his chest.

With a sigh, Itama spared one glance at the stacked books that sat on his table before padding towards his front door. He had planned on making lunch for Tobirama and himself, but it seemed said plans had now changed.

Itama was lucky, to say the least. Given another chance to live? Able to live a shinobi lifestyle, and yet the threat of clan wars nonexistent? It’s what many shinobi dreamed of. Nevertheless, the first few years he lived completely away from the Senju were difficult. Tobirama made sure to move him far away enough that he no longer lived on any clan land, somewhere close to a civilian town. Due to this, Tobirama often struggled to visit due to the distance and time until he invented his currently technique, as he was now calling it the Hiraishin.

What money that paid for his home was soon lost a few months into living away from the Senju, and Itama took to shinobi jobs to pay for extra items merchants sold nearby, not that Tobirama knew of that. The jobs kept up his skills as a shinobi, and often gave him more to do than just read and uphold his garden. And he got paid — that was a plus too.

From working as a makeshift doctor to those who weren’t afraid of medical ninjutsu, or just ninjutsu in general, as the civilian populace often was, he also occasionally took upon escort jobs. Anything that he could do that wouldn’t leave him under complete suspicion to any nearby shinobi clans.

The town he lived near he tended not to interact with aside from buying goods and the occasional job. They paid their loyalty to the Hagoromo clan, but were so close to the edge of their land claims that Itama was never reported by any. Besides, Itama made sure to live just outside the border. Not that it did much, however. He could always play his ‘I’m a civilian born shinobi’ card and state he learned his techniques from books if he was ever questioned. Which, if his house was investigated, would seem to be true. Although, Itama’s own striking resemblance to Hashirama and Tobirama would most likely be his downfall. 

Sighing once more, Itama squinted in the sunlight at his garden. He could cook something himself, but he was craving food from a restaurant this time around. He had some extra money, and indulging himself just this once, after such an emotional punch, wouldn’t be a terrible idea.

Focusing, Itama cast his concentration out to see if the restaurant in question was open and brimming with people at this time of day, as it should be, but he never could be too careful.

What he wasn’t expecting was to feel chakra coils of multiple full-grown shinobi in one area, close to the town. Itama’s brows knitted together in confusion at this. In all his year spent living in the area, never once had a Hagoromo clan member even passed by. So many of them — and Itama could certainly tell by their chakra that was indeed the clan they belonged to — was incredibly odd. And just between their riled chakra, Itama felt the presence of another. They were much brighter than those of the Hagoromo, indicating great strength.

Itama’s confusion morphed into astonishment — it was an Uchiha, certainly.

But for what reason were these Hagoromo agitated with an Uchiha? Tobirama had notified him of the Hagoromo and Uchiha alliance against the Senju ages ago, but never once was he told they had broken their partnership.

And amid it all, Itama felt the bright flicker of another Uchiha, but chakra so small. No, that was wrong — their coils weren’t developed yet. They were a  _ child _ .

Itama’s feet were carrying him towards the other shinobi before he knew it, eyes flying open as he took to the trees easily with his speed. He would just examine the scene, that’s all. After all, he hadn’t seen any other shinobi in the past eleven years aside from Tobirama. If a fight did indeed break out, Itama would slip out unnoticed.


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rip Izuna in this chapter tbh
> 
> also no beta again we die like men

The flash of the unnatural light green armor associated with the Hagoromo had Itama twisting to plaster himself against a tree in an instant. He should’ve stopped earlier just to see how close he was to the Hagoromo and Uchiha in the first place, but he had been too eager to view the scene before the other shinobi dispersed, or worse, slaughtered each other.

Focusing, Itama could tell he was now only a handful of meters behind one of the Hagoromo — so close, he could tell there were many more gathered than he previously thought. Itama was lucky, in the least, that their lashing chakra wasn’t as overwhelming as Tobirama’s could become. However, the grown Uchiha he had felt from earlier was a different matter. If anything, his own chakra rivaled that of Tobirama’s the way it was currently flaring around him. Even a non-sensor could feel its pressure.

Which begged the question: just who was the Uchiha? Tobirama had spoken to him of a few that could match Tobirama and Hashirama in a fight.

Wracking his mind for names, Itama could only pull on three. Hikaku, Izuna, and Madara. If his memory served him just right, nonetheless, Izuna and Madara were the direct Uchiha heirs. Powerful shinobi that had obtained the Mangekyō Sharingan, making it highly unlikely these Hagoromo would even challenge one of them, despite their current numbers.

That was, however, unless they held a high advantage. Protecting a child while fighting was difficult enough, but was there another factor?

Quickly jumping to a branch above, Itama positioned himself to stick his head around the tree and view the scene before him. He had been tuning the voices out while pondering the situation, but now with his focus returned, they rang out loud and clear.

“We’ll ask one last time. Give the child back as collateral, and the Uchiha won’t be missing one of their heirs.”

“As if you all think you could beat me, together or not. Alongside my brother, I’m the second strongest in the Uchiha, and you petty—”

“And you’re severely injured by shinobi standards, cocky Uchiha.” Short laughs of the men followed the statement. “You can only do so much without the use of a hand.”

Itama zeroed in on the two men speaking. One, so very obviously Uchiha, held his back to a tree, and tiny shadow cowering behind him. The child. It was easy to identify said Uchiha, from both Tobirama’s descriptions, and the rumors he heard from the civilians of the legendary ‘Uchiha heirs’. Hair held back in a low ponytail and clad in a navy Uchiha garment, stood Izuna Uchiha, left hand holding his sword in a shaky grip, evident that it wasn’t his dominant hand.

From his angle, Itama was obstructed from seeing what was causing the Uchiha’s injury, but he wouldn’t doubt it being broken. A useless hand left him incredibly vulnerable without the ability to perform most jutsu.

Glancing to the other man who previous spoke to Izuna, he stood tall in his armor, brown hair bleak and unimpressive as his men encircled the surrounding area.

It didn’t take a genius to discover what was occurring — the Hagoromo had attempted to steal the Uchiha child for some type of bargaining material. It was a reckless idea, seeing as it would possibly destroy their alliance, but a mold able Uchiha was a dangerous one, especially in the hands of another clan.

Itama hesitated, as one by one the Hagoromo unsheathed their swords, malice laced in their chakra.

He had been killed by the Uchiha, eleven years beforehand. Many of his kin had been slaughtered by the Uchiha — hell, even the Uchiha that stood before him has tried to kill Tobirama at every opportunity. Itama should hold no guilt in watching them die.

And yet, Itama found his hands forming seals before he could blink. He couldn’t let a blameless child be used and killed as he had, all those years ago. The guilt would live with him for too long.

Earthen spikes shot from the ground, impaling five of the Hagoromo in an instant, piercing through the backs of their armor with ease. They had half a second to let out a garbled shout of pain before slumping over, blood soaking down their bodies.

Well, now was as good a time as ever to practice his shinobi skills against someone that _wasn’t_ Tobirama.

“Who—”

Itama quickly detached his chakra-laden feet from the tree and shot towards a dead Hagoromo, intent on grabbing one of their swords. He wouldn’t be able to fight with jutsu alone if he got stuck in close combat.

The moment his fingers slid along the hilt of a discarded blade, a heavy force rammed into his side, throwing Itama into a tree. Breath was knocked from his lungs momentarily due to the impact, but Itama could hear the pained shouts of the Hagoromo. Hopefully, that was Izuna taking advantage of his distraction.

Focus slowly clearing, Itama had just enough time to turn his head before kunai whizzed by his ear, piercing the tree bark at his back.

Taking just enough time to scramble from the ground and assess the situation, it had indeed seemed that Izuna had joined the fight, sword-work sloppy with the use of his non-dominant hand. He held two Hagoromo at bay while another three scattered about, all preparing to sling more kunai in Itama’s direction. It seemed his earth jutsu had taken out the majority of the Hagoromo.

Itama quickly turned and wretched the kunai from the tree behind him. It wasn’t a sword, but it would counter a blade nonetheless.

The shifting of chakra once again had Itama diving to the side, just far enough away from a Hagoromo’s fire jutsu to engulf his previous position.

If these Hagoromo were more experienced in fire jutsu, than Itama would counter them with water.

Despite his lack of proficiency as Tobirama was with water jutsu, Itama had trained long enough with his brother to be able to conjure water without a source. Itama swiftly preformed hand seals as a water mass gathered behind him in the shape of a dragon, dropping his kunai as the three Hagoromo facing him visibly hesitated. It wasn’t often you saw someone without a shinobi crest who could perform two different nature releases and high ranking jutsu. Actually, Itama would guess that _never_ happened judging by the brief flash of astonishment on the Hagoromo closest.

The dragon roared behind him and plunged towards to Hagoromo, striking with such a force that they crashed to the ground, water soaking into their armor and pinning them momentarily. Itama took this chance to once again weave his earth spike jutsu, satisfied to see the spikes rise from the ground, tips wet with blood. There was no doubt those three were dead, or at the very least, dying.

However, a clang of metal drew Itama’s attention, and he grabbed the kunai laying at his feet, spinning to see Izuna still locked in a swordfight with two of the Hagoromo. Itama had to give the Uchiha credit — he was fighting evenly despite the setback of his hand and the unfair two versus one setting.

Taking a moment to aim, Itama hurled his kunai at one of the Hagoromo, the weapon landing in a patch of his unprotected neck. The man let out a garbled noise after half a second, wrenching the kunai from his neck before pressing a hand to his wound, blood flowing past his fingers. Itama knew there was no coming back from his fatal wound, and shifted his eyes to watch as Izuna parried a strike to his left, spinning his sword as he thrust up, the metal sparking blue with lightning-laced chakra as it slid through the Hagoromo’s armor with ease.

A moment passed before Izuna hauled his sword up once, wrenching it out of the Hagoromo, the latter’s face frozen in incredulity as he fell to the ground with a clang.

The only sound that remained was the pants of the two adult shinobi, the meek sobs of a child, and the songs of nearby birds brave enough to stay in the area.

Suddenly, Izuna wheeled around, glare locked straight onto Itama with his sharingan spinning as he growled, “ _You_.”

So maybe Itama should have disguised his appearance before Izuna saw him, that much was evident. Then again, Itama was lacking in the genjutsu apartment, and Izuna’s sharingan would have seen right through the disguise. Really, Itama should have thought beforehand that he looked like both Hashirama and Tobirama mashed into one person. It was rather a large ‘hi, I’m a Senju!’ indicator.

. . .Not that the civilians had ever seen a Senju before, so he was relatively safe with them. But with Izuna? Who fought only Tobirama? Yeah, it was safe to say it was fairly obvious to disconcern his lineage.

Itama tensed the moment Izuna raised his sword once more, and prepared the moment the Uchiha charged forward.

Only for Izuna's knees to buckle and fall face-first into the dirt.

Well then.

Itama stared, dumbfounded at the Uchiha floundering on the ground, attempting to shove himself back to his feet before groaning in pain.

“You fucking bastard! I’ll kill you the moment I can stand, I swear it!”

Raising an eyebrow in amusement, Itama looked Izuna over before snorting. A broken hand, most definitely, and a large wound on his right side caught his attention, along with various sized cuts riddling his body. It was no wonder he collapsed. However, if the Uchiha kept squirming like he currently was, he would eventually bleed out.

And Itama certainly didn’t have a problem with that — he was there to save the child, in the end. It’d probably help out Tobirama too, along the way, if this Uchiha died. Maybe even the Senju Clan as a whole.

And, maybe it might convince Tobirama to let him come back early.

Frowning at his thoughts, Itama turned his head to see the Uchiha child still cowering next to a tree, face red and wet with tears and snot.

Itama immediately dropped his posture to appear non-threatening, approaching the child with careful steps. Certainly, the Uchiha writhing on the ground cursing didn’t much help his image, but the least he could do is overshadow Izuna’s biting words as he steadily walked forward towards the frightened child.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Itama began, watching the child press himself more against the tree. Itama had to get close to him — he could see red staining part of the child’s shirt. In the very least, Itama would heal the child if it was his own blood.

“Like hell you’re not here to hurt us!” A voice clamored behind Itama’s back.

Sighing, Itama stopped his steps and whirled around to stare down at Izuna.

“Would you shut up already? If I was here to hurt you, I wouldn’t have saved your ass from the Hagoromo. I’m just trying to make sure the kid isn’t hurt,” Itama quipped, irritation laced in his voice.

Izuna’s mouth whizzed shut instantly, expression twisting into confusion at his words. Before Itama had a chance to elaborate, and meek voice spoke behind him.

“My name is Kagami.”

Itama turned to stare down at the child, who now claimed himself to be Kagami, looking up at him with wide, unblinking eyes, much closer than previously.

“Your hair is pretty,” Kagami continued, waddling further near Itama.

Itama quickly raised an eyebrow — for a child previously cowering and crying against a tree, his mind had changed rather fast. If he had to guess, he would even say Kagami was just over four years old.

Which begged the question behind this whole situation. What was he doing in Hagoromo territory?

Shrugging inside his inquiries, Itama knelt down, gently reaching out a hand towards Kagami. “Are you hurt anywhere? I can heal it, if you would like me to.”

The distinct lack of noise of a struggling Uchiha had Itama using his free hand to form a hand sign as he focused in an attempt to locate Izuna.

Eyes widening, Itama dropped his body in a swift somersault to the side, momentarily relishing in the dull thud of a metal blade crashing into dirt instead of his flesh.

On his feet in an instant, Itama moved faster than the injured Izuna could react, stepping behind the Uchiha and pinning and arm around his throat.

“Drop the sword now, Uchiha.”

Izuna stayed limp in his grip, sighing as he dropped his weapon to the ground.

“Who are you? You lack a shinobi clan symbol and yet you took the Hagoromo down with ease,” Izuna questioned.

Raising an eyebrow, Itama kept his hold tight. Certainly, Izuna would know he is a Senju, would he not?

Rather than deign the Uchiha with an answer, Itama funneled chakra into his free hand, pressing it against Izuna’s wounded side.

Izuna tensed at the action, mouth opening to shout protests, before it closed haphazardly.

“. . .You’re healing me?”

Itama knew well enough that he would need to keep Izuna alive at this point — he couldn’t exactly take this Uchiha child and deliver him back to the Uchiha after they’re were on high alert. Izuna would need to return with Kagami, not Itama himself.

Frowning, Itama funneled more chakra into his palm, attempting to knit Izuna’s skin together at a faster pace. Izuna’s wounds were numerous and deep, however, and it would likely be a day or two before the man could return to the distant Uchiha compound without the threat of his injuries becoming worse.

Loosening his grip, Itama kept his hand against Izuna’s side as he glanced back at Kagami who stared curiously up at the two adults a few meters away.

“Apologies, it seems your relative here needs more immediate medical attention. I’m sure you’re quite tired after you bravely faced those Hagoromo — why don’t we return to my house and let you sleep in a comfy bed along with grabbing something to eat?” Itama spoke, running over plans in his mind. Certainly, Izuna would protest while the young Kagami would not at the prospect of rest.

As predicted, Izuna instantly twisted in Itama’s grasp. “Don’t you dare lay a hand on Kagami,” he hissed, haphazardly swinging a fist at Itama’s face.

The Uchiha’s sluggish movements made it easy for Itama to quickly catch said punch, wrenching himself away from Izuna’s body. The lack of support holding Izuna up caused his knees to buckle once again, collapsing forward.

Itama swiftly fisted a hand in Izuna’s collar as he fell, having half a moment to think his decision through before he kicked his knee up, straight into the Uchiha’s face. The impact had Izuna’s head whipping back, body going limp in Itama’s hold.

A moment passed before Itama breathed out a sigh of relief, dropping the unconscious Izuna into the dirt. Izuna was bleeding from the nose now too, along with his numerous other cuts, but it would be vastly less difficult to transport this knocked out Uchiha back to house and heal him without the struggling.

Running a hand through his hair in exasperation, Itama turned to see Kagami still staring with wide eyes at the scene.

“He’s uh,” Itama began, glancing down at the bleeding Izuna, attempting to formulate a good excuse. “Just taking a nap.”

“I can tell you knocked out uncle Izuna,” Kagami stated, eyes still glassy from tears.

Right. This was a shinobi child after all — he wasn’t completely sheltered from violence.

A sigh escaped Itama’s lips as he stepped up to Kagami, squatting down to be eye-level with the child. Surely he had already left a bad impression after knocking another member of his clan unconscious.

“My name is Itama.” He extended a hand to Kagami, watching the child dart his eyes from his hand back to Itama’s face. “I have a bed and food back at my house, if you would like to visit. I’ll be taking your _uncle_ with me as well, if you’re worried about leaving with a stranger.”

Certainly, Itama was expecting a handful of different reactions from the child: anger, rejection, crying, acceptance — what he wasn’t expecting, however, was a _question_.

“Are you the Uchiha Killer? You only have one red eye though, and your hair isn’t completely white like how my mom describes him.”

Itama snorted at the question. It seems this child could see that he was related to Tobirama, and yet Izuna, the man who fought Tobirama often, could not.

“No, that isn’t me. A simple coincidence, I’m sure,” Itama stated, smiling as Kagami took his hand.

“Now,” Itama said, standing and removing his hand from Kagami’s. “I can’t carry both you and Izuna at once, so let me make a clone.”

The Shadow Clone Jutsu had to be one of the most useful jutsu Tobirama had invented and taught him thus far — he gets so much work done just with a simple clone's help.

Bringing his hands together to form the simple seals Tobirama had shown him, a second copy of himself appeared from smoke, tilting an eyebrow at his original before stepping up to the unconscious Uchiha and hauling the man onto his back.

"I'll go ahead," the clone spoke before jumping into the trees in one quick step.

Itama turned to look down at the bright-eyed Kagami and once again extended his hand. "We'll follow along behind my clone."

"That was so cool!" Kagami began, taking Itama's hand only to be lifted onto the Senju's back. "Where did you learn that jutsu? Can you teach me it?"

"I learned it from a friend, and maybe," Itama replied. Tobirama would certainly have his hide if he knew Itama taught an Uchiha one of his jutsu. He would just have to keep this child sated with something else back at his house while he healed Izuna of his injuries. Hopefully Kagami enjoyed reading, because the little entertainment he held came from the many books he had stacked at home.

Once Kagami was situated upon his back, Itama leapt into the trees, following his clone’s chakra signature home. Izuna would need heavy amount of medical attention as soon as they returned, and hopefully he hadn’t caused enough damage that the Uchiha wouldn’t be able to go back the Uchiha compound within a day or two.

 _Hopefully_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kagami calls Izuna his uncle, but they aren't actually related that closely. It's just a thing I headcanon young kagami calling any older uchiha male - he calls madara that too.


	5. Chapter Fourt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is so late. I got stuck at the beginning of this chapter months ago, feeling like my writing was really wonky. I finally just worked through it.
> 
> this chapter was intended to be even longer than it already is, but im not a fan of putting midchapter timeskips in my stories. maybe one day I'll do it, but today is not the day.

The distinct prick of eyes tracking his movement had Itama gently setting down the cloth he held. He needed, in this moment, to appear non-hostile and unaware, so as not to cause Izuna’s anger to flare.  
  
“Took you awhile to wake up,” Itama spoke to the silent room, still keeping his back turned to the Uchiha. Izuna was in no state to attack after such a long rest, and coupled with his injuries and Itama’s sensor abilities to be able to detect his movement, Itama held no panic over an impending assault.   
  
Silence responded to Itama, rather than the voice he hoped would speak up. Instead, as the quiet moment passed, a fluctuation of chakra had Itama tensing in an instant, whirling around in preparation.   
  
He brought his eyes to meet that of a rather sickly-pale Izuna’s and internally cursed at his idiocy as he stared into the sharingan.   
  
“You are such an asshole,” Itama began, knowing that despite the unchanging surroundings, he had caught himself in a genjutsu. “How do you even have the strength for this?”   
  
Izuna took a moment to examine his surroundings before pushing himself from the bed, covers slipping from his chest to reveal his wounds were all but nonexistent in this false reality. “I don’t need to explain that to you. You’re just some deserter who has stolen the heir and a child of the Uchiha.”   
  
Itama almost wanted to laugh at Izuna’s bold statement. He doubted the other had figured out he was a Senju, because different slew of words would be spoken currently instead.   
  
Titling his head in question, Itama crossed his arms across his chest and drew himself to his full height. Intimidation wasn’t his strong suit, especially considering the flowers that currently found themselves home in his hair by Kagami’s hand, but he would attempt it, in the least.   
  
“What makes you think I’m a deserter?”   
  
Izuna blinked at the response, possibly not expecting a question as Itama’s reply. “You,” Izuna began, standing and ruffling out his clothes, almost like a bird preening, “bear no clan marking. I’ve never seen someone take out a group of any clan shinobi so quickly who was civilian-born. Clearly, you’re a deserter with proper training.”   
  
“Well,” Itama smiled, turning over lies in his head. Best case scenario was that he managed to convinced Izuna to return to the Uchiha with Kagami without telling anyone of Itama. Worst case scenario? Itama turns out to be a terrible liar and Izuna sees right through it.   
  
“Maybe you’ve just never seen a civilian-born shinobi like me.”   
  
Itama knew how to escape genjutsu — it was practically drilled into his head since birth. Even after Tobirama’s decision to move Itama away from the Senju, he still kept himself up-to-date on how to break out of them. Though, he was rather poor at trapping others within genjutsu, but it wasn’t something he was particularly interested in.   
  
And all the easier was it for him to locate Kagami’s chakra signature and pull himself back to reality. _Really_ , he had to thank Tobirama for the things his older brother taught him.   
  
Izuna—the _real_ Izuna—blinked wide-eyed from under the blanket Itama had covered him with hours before.   
  
“How the fuck did you—”   
  
“Stay still this time, will you?” Itama cut the other off, turning back to the bowl he had previously set down and pulled out a damp rag. If Izuna wouldn’t refused to quiet his scathing language, Itama would just speak over him. “You were much easier to heal unconscious. I would prefer not knock you out again.”   
  
He watched in amusement as Izuna stiffened as he approached, pulling the blanket higher up his chest. Itama raised an eyebrow in mirth.   
  
“You really think that would stop me from harming you if that’s what I was here to do?”   
  
Pausing in thought, Izuna eventually sighed and began to relax his shoulders, letting his white-knuckle grip release on the cloth.   
  
Maybe he was finally making sense to Izuna. The fact the Uchiha was alive and partially healed was a testament to Itama’s benevolence.   
  
Wary of another effort of attack, Itama cautiously sat down on the bed, careful to stay just within arms reach of Izuna.   
  
“I need to clean your wound, and continue healing it, if you would let me,” Itama stated, Izuna’s sharingan flickering at every movement.   
  
Izuna paused, mulling over the idea before shifting to prop himself more upright with a wince, blanket falling off him with ease. He blinked twice at his attire—or lack thereof—and quickly looked back at Itama with a raised eyebrow.   
  
“It’s uh,” Itama began, face heating in embarrassment. “It’s easier to heal injuries without cloth preventing me to see the full extent of the damage. Also your robes were blood-soaked and shredded in some places.”   
  
“Right,” Izuna croaked, looking back to himself to examine his many different gashes.   
  
The elephant in the room almost suffocated Itama—this certainly was one of the most awkward situations he had ever found himself in. Almost as uncomfortable when he once woke up in bed with two civilian women he didn’t even remember the names of. It was one of the few reasons he didn’t like to drink in public.   
  
“Earth and water release, along with quite the deadly kunai aim, genjutsu knowledge, and impressive medical ninjutsu,” Izuna spoke, interrupting Itama’s laments. He once again had his gaze trained on Itama’s face, scrutinizing him. “Who are you?”   
  
Rather than respond straight away, Itama set a hand on one of the few cuts he had yet to heal on Izuna, hand dimly lighting up green.   
  
“My name is Itama.”   
  
The reply was simple—Itama had carefully crafted a backstory while healing the unconscious Izuna hours before, just in case the Uchiha pressed for details. Simply, he was a civilian with chakra control, which wasn’t _entirely_ unheard of. Once learning of his ability, he scoured the Land of Fire as a teenager gathering books about the shinobi lifestyle and having friendly shinobi he crossed paths with teach him techniques. It was a vaguely believable story, in the event Izuna saw the walls of books Itama kept. It would help him legitimize his story.   
  
Izuna let out a breath as shallow cuts slowly closed across his chest, one by one. Itama could heal these in a breeze. It was Izuna’s broken hand and cut on his side that was another matter. Skin was easy to knit back together—bone, and severed muscle was not.   
  
"Well," Izuna continued as the cuts along his skin closed one by one, bruises fading from sight. "You live here alone? I'm surprised your medical ninjutsu is so advanced, if so."   
  
Casual conversation—or, at least, that's what Izuna wanted him to think. Despite what others may have thought, genjutsu took an immense degree of knowledge on manipulation. _Especially_ to obtain information. Izuna was prying for more.   
  
Itama raised an eyebrow at Izuna's inquiry, letting his expression show his thoughts. This Uchiha was daft if he truly thought he wouldn't know the other was trying to manipulate information out of him.   
  
Or—Izuna wouldn't know that Itama was aware of Uchiha tactics?   
  
Blinking, Itama set another hand against Izuna's side, focusing instead on the large wound dominating the other's abdomen. Of course Izuna would think his prying would work. For all he knew, Itama was born clanless and definitely not a Senju. He almost had to restrain a snort at that. Even with his unfounded backstory he had yet to tell, his own features screamed Senju, if not a Senju _heir_ .   
  
"I do indeed live alone," Itama stated, giving a clipped reply. The less the other knew the better. He wouldn't admit it, but he was rather uneasy that this Uchiha was even being healed by him. Izuna himself could have killed many of his kin and Itama was sitting here, repairing him just so he could once again walk and _slaughter—_   
  
Izuna twitched back from Itama's hand, face contorted as his sharingan spun into a more intricate pattern—a mangekyou.   
  
"I don't need to be a sensor to feel your killing-intent," he hissed out, bringing his uninjured hand into a defensive position.   
  
Itama only blinked at the other's reaction, tampering down his chakra in one swift action. It had been a long time since he lost reign of his chakra.   
  
"I apologize," Itama started, dragging his hands back to himself. If Izuna was moving away from him so easily, then his wound on his side was healed enough for now—he wouldn't have to worry about it reopening at the smallest of movements.   
  
Avoiding Izuna's own gaze, as he'd already been trapped in a genjutsu once today and did not plan on it happening a second time, Itama floundered for some excuse. What could he say? That his own family had been a victim by Uchiha hand?   
  
...That actually sounded plausible.   
  
Itama sat back on his haunches, sighing before meeting Izuna's own eyes on purpose—it showed some amount of trust. "I've had family members killed by the Uchiha. I was mulling over why I was here healing the heir of the clan when you very well could have been one of the culprits who did such a thing."   
  
Izuna blinked, expression shifting as his eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment.   
  
"You live on Hagoromo land—why would the Uchiha have any need to attack civilians here?"   
  
"We're currently on unclaimed land just outside of the Hagoromo border," Itama stated. "And I have not always lived here."   
  
Truths, though they have been missing important information. Outright lies were difficult for Itama to successfully pull off, but the best lies always contained truth. At least, that's what he had been taught.   
  
Izuna frowned at his curt response. It was obvious he wasn't telling more, but it was possible that he would write off the unwillingness to divulge information as relived memories. Anyone who lived during this time, especially shinobi, knew reliving experiences was painful.   
  
Silence lapped for moments between the two, Izuna brewing over what more to question while Itama shifted, plotting a conversational escape if the other was to speak once more. However, neither had a moment to ponder further before the shuffle of untrained feet brought both of their gazes to the doorway, watching as Kagami poked his head in the room.   
  
"Is he okay now?"   
  
Sending Kagami a gentle smile, he beckoned the child over while he turned to glance back at Izuna.   
  
"Know that I refuse to harm a child, and you are needed to return him back to your clan. You will not be harmed while you're here, my past vendettas aside," he spoke under his breath, low enough that the untrained Kagami would not pick up on his words, but Izuna certainly would.   
  
The other only returned his stare with a deep frown before flickering his eyes over to the approaching child, expression flipping into a wide grin.   
  
"Kagami! You're alright."   
  
Itama ignored the jibe. Of course Izuna was in doubt that he wouldn't have harmed Kagami.   
  
The child in question clambered onto the bed, staring up at Izuna with wide eyes as tucked himself under the Uchiha's arm. "Yep! He healed my bruises and let me gather flowers outside," he blabbered, pointing at Itama in exaggeration.   
  
"Flowers? That explains his hair" Izuna stated, nodding his head at Itama, smile still set on his face.   
  
Before Kagami had a chance to continue, Itama stood from the bed, sending the two Uchiha a bemused smile. Despite the content appearance Izuna had plastered across his face, Itama could still feel the tension between them. Some time and distance would be best, for now.   
  
"I have things to take care of. Kagami, why don't you watch Izuna and make sure he doesn't injure himself further? It's very important that doesn't happen."   
  
Kagami furiously nodded his head in response, puffing his chest out. "I'll do my best!"   
  
Backtracking, Itama cast a glance at the two once more before rounding the corner of the doorway. He could feel Izuna's eyes tracking him the entire way.   
  
He didn't trust Izuna, that was for certain. There was no guarantee that the Uchiha wouldn't attempt to kill him once he was properly heal, though Itama somehow doubted the other would go to that length for—for what? It would be a waste of effort to kill a supposed 'civilian-born' shinobi peacefully living his life in neutral territory. One that was quite obviously taking shinobi jobs from under Hagoromo noses, a clan that Izuna must hold nothing but spite for now.   
  
Sighing, Itama shoved his thoughts away for now. Despite what he had been taught growing up, Uchiha must have _some_ honor. Saving and healing the heir and child of the Uchiha should mean, at the very least, Izuna does not think about harming Itama after everything.   
  
Passing through rooms of his house, Itama glanced inside his kitchen to assess any damage Kagami might have caused earlier—he did, after all, leave the child loose without supervision while he was busy attending to Izuna.   
  
The kitchen was just as he had left it the day before, surprisingly. This made things easier, in the long run. He doubted Izuna had eaten at all since yesterday, though he had fed Kagami and himself last night while Izuna was still unconscious.   
  
A step into the kitchen lead Itama to glance around at what he could prepare. He wasn't quite in the mood to cook, and he couldn't very well venture into the nearby town to buy pre-made food, as Hagoromo would likely be prowling the area for unfamiliar shinobi that could have caused their unit's deaths.   
  
Freezing, Itama glanced outside his window.   
  
Oh, what had he done?   
  
Cursing under his breath, Itama kneaded his chakra, casting it out to determine if any Hagoromo were investigating nearby outside their borders—they would be stupid not to.   
  
There were definitely developed coils scattered across the nearby town, and more lingering just outside the border. It was only a day that had passed—they could have possibly just learned details and found the bodies? This gave him time before they truly investigated outside their land.   
  
A quick stride across his house had Itama marching back into the room that held Kagami and Izuna were positioned in, speaking about matters Itama cast aside.   
  
"—and he—"   
  
"Izuna, can the Hagoromo see through Uchiha genjutsu like the Senju can?"   
  
Kagami and Izuna bother turned to stare at Itama, the latter of which held an expression akin to astonishment.   
  
"No, not that I'm aware of. Why?"   
  
"I need you to—" Itama stopped mid-word to mull over his previous sentence. Had he let it slip he knew more about the Senju, a clan quite a distance away, than the Hagoromo, a clan he lived next to?   
  
Shaking his head, Itama continued, shirking aside the knowledge that Izuna must have caught on to the slip. "I need you to cast a genjutsu over the area. The Hagoromo will likely start searching outside their borders for who killed their shinobi very soon."   
  
Izuna sat up straighter, casting a glance through a nearby window. "They don't have any powerful sensors that will be able to distinguish between civilians and shinobi unless they are incredibly close by. I can veil the area as part of the forest for quite some time despite the large area."   
  
Itama mentally filed away that information—Tobirama would be interested to know that about the Hagoromo. That, and what Izuna admitted he could veil with genjutsu. It was quite impressive. No wonder Tobirama and he were evenly matched in a fight.   
  
"Can you do it from here? I can give you some chakra if you don't have enough."   
  
Izuna paused, before frowning. "No, my reserves are almost full again despite having been depleted when you found me, though I do still feel faint from blood loss. How long have I been out?"   
  
"Since yesterday. You slept for quite some time."   
  
Another incredulous look—"And you only healed me when I woke up?"   
  
The other shrugged at the question. "I feared my chakra in your body would have woken you up and I would’ve had to deal with your struggle, causing your wounds to worsen. You waking up naturally were I could explain myself without immediate attack was the better option."   
  
Sighing, Izuna tilted his head down to see Kagami glancing between the two of them with rapt attention, vibrating with excitement at being able to watch Izuna perform such an advanced genjutsu.   
  
"Alright, go back to whatever you were doing. I'll cast the genjutsu."   
  
Itama spared Izuna another glance—meeting his gaze in question before he backed out of the room.   
  
All he wanted was his peaceful life. Maybe to one day return to the Senju, too. The Uchiha heir, however? That has _never_ been on his to-do list. And here he was, causing him headache after headache.   
  
He had food to go prepare. A distraction, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually headcanon Itama was a little resentful of the Uchiha more than you would think despite his sympathetic personality- in the manga, when tobirama brings up the idea of stopping the fighting, Itama is the one to interject and talk about all their lost ones.
> 
> word for word: "but then... what of our killed parents and siblings? what about our feelings towards our fallen comrades?"
> 
> and then tobirama tells itama he's going to end up dead if he keeps thinking like that. Which, props to Tobirama I guess because people really assume he didn't want peace like Hashirama, but although I think Tobirama influenced Itama a lot over my eleven year timeskip, he never exactly let go of that mindset of 'my kin were killed by these people, possibly this same person I'm helping right now. What am I doing?'
> 
> Anyways thats my weird analyzing headcanon right there. Have fun with it.
> 
> Izuna is defensive as well, but you'd probably be the same if you were in his shoes, in his time period. Friendly strangers probably weren't a thing. But don't worry, he'll come around! Maybe.


End file.
